Stories of Xavier's School
by jeremy jordan can't dance
Summary: A collection of one-shots taking place in the X-Men movie universe, at different points in the timeline—both the original and the new. The universe/time will be mentioned in the chapter title. Updated sporadically, based on inspiration. Rated T because I'm paranoid.
1. Seeing Red (Apocalypse)

**Seeing Red**

Red.

It wasn't that he was ungrateful, being able to see without destroying everything in sight; no, he couldn't be more happy to feel less like a danger and more like just another new kid. It was just that, well...

Everything was red.

Slightly red, at least.

Scott blinked, once again testing the impossible theory that closing his eyes and reopening them would alter the tint of the ruby quartz lenses at all for perhaps the millionth time.

Or perhaps he was overestimating it a little.

He didn't usually mind red—in small increments—but this? It was just...too much.

The sky, once crystal clear and blue as the oceans, now looked almost violet in color; the trees, normally green and lively, now looked black, plain, and almost deathly in the shade; even the other people looked wrong—everything was simply...off.

A hand reached towards the glasses, and he couldn't help but adjust them again. It had become habit—one he was pretty sure wasn't going to go away any moment soon.

How else but through memories could he remember the golden rays of the sun, the purple bushes of lavender petals, the white piles of snow?

Would they all, one day, become red? As red as the lenses that created a barrier not only between his optic blasts and the rest of the world, but himself and the world.

An invisible barrier, setting him apart, tinted red.

His eyes scanned the campus, from field to court to garden. Red-tinted students threw a red-tinted football, a red-tinted dog chased after a red-tinted squirrel, and a red-tinted sky grew darker as the sun drifted towards the horizon.

Soon, everything would be bathed in a red light, and Scott would not be alone.

Except, when he closed his eyes for the night's sleep, he would not wake to find everything bright and white again. No, everything would be red. Like always.

And yet, there she was.

Red, but not because of his glasses.

The color of fire, but not because of his glasses.

Seemingly glowing, but not because of his glasses.

No, she was just red all on her own.

Soft, curling red hair fell in curtains past her shoulders. Smiling red lips laughed in response to something else tinted red. Blushing red cheeks lifted as her whole face seemed to take part in the smile.

And it made him feel red inside.

Not an angry, hateful red. Not the red of war, or the red of blood. No, this was a welcoming red. A red that curled up inside of him like a giant house cat in his stomach, and made his fingers and toes tingle. A red that could convince him that, perhaps, if things had been different, and he were in control of his own power, that just looking at her would have made things burn in that same, red hue. Just one look might have got him...

Seeing red.


	2. You Mean You Don't Know? (Apocalypse)

**You Mean You Don't Know?**

"Okay, so first off the mall, and then the movie theater—I was thinking Return of the Jedi," Scott said with a smirk as the four mutants drove away from the school.

Kurt watched the large building slowly shrink, and little by little, he grew more anxious to see this "mall." They hadn't actually explained what a mall was, so he'd been left to his own imagination as they continued to chatter—mostly about stuff he didn't understand.

"You do realize how much Jedi has to live up to, right?" Jubilee said, arching a brow. "Like, hello, the whole Vader thing and all? Who knows if he's even telling the truth? If they screw it up, I'm gonna be so disappointed in Star Wars— _and_ in George Lucas," she said, seeming to very much mean what she said

"And...what is this...Star Wars?" Kurt asked hesitantly.

Three gasps came from the other mall-goers, and two heads turned towards him with wide-eyed surprise.

"You mean...you've never heard...of _Star Wars_?" Jubilee said, as if it were a personal offense.

"Here we go," Jean muttered, although she too had been fairly surprised at the question.

Kurt grimaced. Obviously this was something big in America, but while they had been going to the mall and seeing movies and all those (hopefully) wonderful things, he'd been in a circus, people gawking at him day in and day out.

"Star Wars is not only the most amazing series of movies this century, it's also got the best special effects I've seen, since Star Trek. Which just doesn't match up," Jubilee said, as if she'd memorized the speech, of course with a fiery passion. "Star Wars is the story of Luke Skywalker, a farm boy from Tatooine who learns his father was a great Jedi during the Clone Wars. Obi-Wan Kenobi, who everyone thinks is crazy, actually turns out to be one of the last remaining Jedi ever. He trains Luke, but he dies at the hands of Darth Vader—not only the most evil guy in the whole galaxy, but also apparently Luke's father, who didn't actually die like Obi-Wan said.

"But there's other characters too, like Princess Leia, who's no regular damsel in distress. She kicks butt, takes names, and is totally a badass. And there's Han Solo, a smuggler who finally decided to get wrapped up in all of this Jedi mumbo-jumbo, mainly because the princess is rich—and he thinks she's smokin'. But they blow up this giant planet-destroying spaceship, Luke goes and trains to be a Jedi with a really old Jedi master Yoda, and where we left off now, Han's frozen in carbonite, Leia and Luke are on a med port because Luke got his hand cut off when he fought Vader, and no one lived happily ever after because it's not done." Jubilee took a deep breath and sighed, waiting for Kurt's reaction to it all.

"Jeez, Jubilee, leave anything out?" Scott said, glancing her way a moment before training his eyes on the road again.

"Well, it's not like we gave him time to see the other two or anything," she responded with a shrug. "So? Whaddya think?" She said excitedly, looking at the blue mutant again, nearly bouncing in her seat.

Kurt wrestled with it a moment, before he shrugged slightly, "I mean...it sounds extremely interesting?" He tried. At least half of what she'd said had admittedly gone right over his head.

The girl's face fell, and she turned around, muttering something that had to do with a "Trekkie" or something.

"Don't worry about her, Kurt," Jean said with a chuckle, "She gets really..into these kinds of things. I just think they're good movies."

Kurt gave a small grimace of a smile in return to her, "Well, I suppose we'll see how much of that I caught once we see the movie, ja?" Jean nodded.

"And I was thinking burgers or something afterwards?" Scott suggested.

"Burgers?" Kurt said, already wincing as he realized they would probably turn on him again.

This time, it was Jean that was most surprised. "Someone's got to get this poor kid a burger already," she said, eyes wide as she looked at him again. "You know, like, hamburgers?"

Hamburgers? Like...Hamburg? The city? "I am...confused," he admitted.

"Yep, we're getting you a burger, first thing," Jubilee said, "I know just the place. Just wait, Kurt, your mind's gonna be blown," she said with a smirk.

He did not want his mind to explode, but he figured by now that was another figure of speech he had never heard before. He simply gave a weak smile and nod to the girl, who seemed pleased enough and turned back forward in her seat.

"What is a...burger?" He whispered to Jean, having a feeling she would be the most sympathetic in explaining it to him.

She smiled softly, giving him a little nod, before she whispered back, "It's a ground beef patty on a bread bun, usually with lettuce, tomato, cheese, some kind of sauce, and pickles on it. But really, you can get almost anything on them, you just gotta look and see what they've got," she explained.

Kurt nodded, giving her a grateful smile in return. "I am excited to see this mall, and to experience American culture, it is all just...overwhelming," he said to the occupants after a moment.

"Don't worry, Kurt, after this, you'll feel like you've been here plenty long," Scott said, and Jubilee nodded.

Maybe he didn't have to be so worried about everything here.


	3. Much Like Before (Apocalypse)

**Much Like Before**

"So, I was thinking, now that we're going with the whole 'X-Men' thing, I think we need code names," Scott said as he sat back in his seat, looking around to the rest of the group.

There was a murmur of assent, with some nods of heads and smirks of intrigue.

Peter was first to speak. "Alright, I'll bite. So we've already got Professor X, right? Do we all have to have weird titles followed by a letter? Because I'd rather not be Q or something. 'Cause, y'know, that's already taken and all."

"No, no, I think he means stuff that's more original to us," Jean said in response, leaning forward from her resting position on the couch next to Scott. "Like, Kurt, I think you've got yours cut out for you," she said, gesturing to the blue mutant, who suddenly looked worried.

"What?" He said, "What do you mean?"

"Yeah, yeah, she's right," Scott agreed, "Nightcrawler. Kind of your thing back home, wasn't it?"

Kurt sank back into his seat a little, shrugging. "Well, yes, I suppose so. I mean, it was my circus name. Kind of over the top, wouldn't you think?"

Peter snorted, "Nah, it sounds kind of cool, actually. I mean, come on. My dad's name is freaking Magneto, and you're worried about Nightcrawler? I'm pretty sure that's way more badass than adding an 'o' on the word 'magnet.'" More chuckles and murmurs of assent.

"And Ororo," Jean said, "You control weather." The teen nodded.

"Yeah, so what about Storm?" Scott said as he looked from Jean to Ororo.

She merely shrugged, "I am just happy to be a part of the team. Anything is better than what I was called in Cairo," she said simply.

"Then it's settled," Scott said with a nod.

"Now, hold on, hold on," Peter said, holding his hands up to shut everyone up. "How come you two are making all the decisions?"

Scott stuttered a bit, "I mean—well, I was just making suggestions, and Jean and I—"

"We're open to suggestions, if you've got any," she said in return.

The silver speedster smirked. "Fine. I'm not going with anything dorky, because I have a feeling this name's gonna stick as long as I'm running around with you guys, right?" He arched a brow, and the others nodded. "Cool, cool. Yeah, if we're going for cool-factor, I'm definitely going with Quicksilver."

A few "hm"s passed around the circle, and then a few nodded.

"Really?" Scott said, though. "Isn't that a little much?"

"And Nightcrawler isn't?" Kurt said in response, to which Peter pointed at the blue mutant with a nod of his head.

Scott shrugged slightly, "No, no, I'm just saying—"

"Yeah, yeah, Cyclops, you're not the one in charge," Peter said with a wave of his hand.

Ororo spoke up, "Hey, Cyclops, that's not bad," she said with a little smirk.

The others nodded, and Scott straightened up, "I—hold on, wait, I don't get a choice in this?"

"Calm down, Cyclops, don't want those glasses falling off, do we?" Jean joked, looking at him expectantly.

A few moments of silence in which Scott's head turned from one mutant to the next, and finally, he sighed in defeat. "Fine, yeah, sure. I guess...well, Cyclops ain't all that bad."

Peter smirked triumphantly.

"Well, seems all that's left is you, Jean," Scott said, looking at her. "Any ideas?"

She shook her head, shoulders raising in a prolonged shrug. "I mean, I don't want anything that sounds pompous or anything."

"What about...Marvel Girl?" Ororo suggested.

Jean wrinkled her nose, "Maybe not, I mean, I'm not _that_ young," she said.

Everyone thought for a moment, and then Scott spoke up. "Phoenix."

It was quiet a moment, and then everyone broke into agreements, smiles passing all around.

"You—really? You think so?" Jean said, looking at everyone.

"Well, I mean, it's kind of obvious, isn't it?" Peter said simply, "Like, in Cairo. The whole fire thing you did to beat Apocalypse or whatever he called himself. _Literally_ a phoenix right there."

More murmurs of agreement.

Jean shifted a little in her seat, "I mean...yeah, that was sort of what it looked like, wasn't it?" She said hesitantly.

"I saw you, Jean," Scott said with a little smile, "I don't think anything else could describe it."

A pause, and then she nodded shortly. "Then it's decided."

From afar stood two blue mutants, looking in on the circle of younger students. Raven smirked knowingly at Hank, who simply nodded with a small smile. "Deja vu, huh?" She said.

"Well, hey, at least we didn't walk in on anyone hanging from the chandelier," Hank said with a chuckle in response.

Raven snorted, "Give Kurt enough time." She looked back on towards the group, memories of a different circle of teenagers drifting past in her mind. _Welcome home, X-Men_ , she thought.


	4. Mutant Movie Night (X-Men)

**Mutant Movie Night**

"C'mon, Bobby, it's just one night." Rogue placed a gloved hand on the teen's arm, tilting her head a bit to the side as a small, challenging grin spread across her lips. "Besides, I don't think any of the teachers will notice if one VHS player's missing. I doubt they even check it."

Bobby hesitated, glancing towards the vacant classroom, before looking back at Rogue. "So you made sure this classroom won't be checked or anything?"

"Positive." The small figure of Kitty Pride phased through the classroom door, a triumphant smirk on her face. "Oops, sorry. Did I butt into anything?"

"No, no, you're fine," Rogue assured her with a shake of her head. "See, Bobby? Come on, it'll be fun," she prodded, giving his arm a little nudge.

Again, the icy teen hesitated. "And it's just going to be us three?"

"And a few others," Kitty said nonchalantly with a shrug of her shoulders. "But does it matter? We'll be fine—come on, Bobby," she pleaded as well, pouting a little as she tilted her head.

"Fine, but if we get in trouble, I'm blaming you two," he said, pointing to the girls.

Later that night, Bobby didn't even try to sleep. He glanced at the clock—eleven fifty-four. Six minutes until he had to be outside the classroom. With the locks on the doors, Kitty had promised she'd be there early, so she could grab anyone who got there and get them in.

At two minutes to midnight, the teen slipped out of his room, stepping carefully down the hall, until he reached the one classroom with a sliver of light coming from underneath the door. He knocked very gently, and a hand phased through the wood, grabbing him by the wrist and pulling him in. It could have been considered jarring and perhaps even terrifying, if he weren't so used to it.

As he passed through the door, he realized how many a "few" seemed to count. Rogue and Kitty, of course, were there, but so were at least ten others. So much for secrecy.

He arched a brow, "So, 'a few others'?" He said, looking at the two who had planned it all.

"Hey, the more the merrier," Kitty said simply.

Rogue took him by the arm, and smiled at him gently. "Now, come on, I've got us seats right in front," she said in a hushed tone, leading him to where countless pillows and cushions sat in front of the classroom TV, the VHS player plugged right in.

As the two sat down, the rest of the teens took the hint, and all plopped down around them. "So, what movie are we watching again?" Bobby asked, looking to Kitty, who was holding a tape jacket in her hands.

"You'll see," she said mischievously, slipping the tape in quickly, revealing the title to no one.

As the simple blue text came up on the black screen, Bobby couldn't help but smirk. "Didn't know you were into science fiction," he murmured to Rogue, who merely rolled her eyes and looked back to the screen, where a fanfare began.

"Man, what an oldie," someone whispered, but he was met with a chorus of "shh"s as the opening scroll for Return of the Jedi began.

Meanwhile, outside the classroom, two figures stood, arms folded.

The first yawned, but couldn't help but smile at the other, who arched a brow in return.

"What, you don't remember sneaking out in the middle of the day to go see this movie, do you?" Jean said with an amused smile, listening again carefully. The kids had done a rather sloppy job of sound muffling—honestly, they probably hadn't done it at all by the sounds of it. But, perhaps she was at an advantage—at least three students had had nothing but this on their minds today, and she couldn't help but overhear such a strong, prevailing thought.

Scott chuckled quietly, "Oh, so _that's_ what they're watching," he said. "Which time are you referring to?" He added with quick wit, to which he got one of those just wonderful eye rolls. "You know, not everyone has telepathic abilities like you, Jean," he added, looking at her knowingly from behind ruby quartz lenses.

"Then maybe you need to listen more closely," she said in response, prodding him once in the chest. "Should we tell the Professor?" She asked, head turning towards the door again.

Scott shook his head, "Let them have it this once. Next time, we'll bring in Logan," he joked


	5. Correct Use Of Powers (Apocalypse)

**Correct Use Of Powers**

"Thank you for meeting, students," the Professor said in a formal manner, though as always, there was a nearly parental tone in his voice. He steepled his fingers, looking at the arc of young mutants, gaze passing over each and every one of them. "I am glad to see you all received my message."

"Yeah, is that gonna be a normal thing?" The silver blur of Peter Maximoff had just entered the room, and his hand was raised. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I dig the whole mind reading thing, but it kind of caught me off guard, 'cause I was doing...important things." He cleared his throat.

A faint, knowing smile crept up at the corners of the Professor's face. "Yes, Mr. Maximoff, I could tell. How did that game finish, by the way, between you and Miss Lee?"

The young adult's face fell, and he looked off, muttering something about a cheater. The yellow jacket-clad teen, however, looked extremely smug.

"Anyways," the Professor said, turning his chair so he could once again address the students altogether, "I believe this would eventually become a necessity. Today, we are going to—once again, for some—" he looked at a few guilty faces, "remind you all of correct use of your powers."

A collective groan came from the students. He chided himself on almost enjoying the reaction.

"Yes, yes, I know just how much you all loathe this, but for your own safety—and for the safety of others—I believe it is a right and smart plan of action." He continued to pass his gaze over each student, confirming they were listening. "Now, a few of your teachers will be giving you some precautionary tips that will allow you to both harness your power and create a safe environment for everyone. This is for your own good, and I expect you all to behave. Do you understand?"

Begrudgingly, students eventually nodded their heads, though he heard plenty of dramatic sighs. All in a day as a teacher,

"Very good," he said with a short nod. "Miss Darkholme and Dr. McCoy will now lead on," he said with a gesture two the pair, as he moved the chair out of the way.

The mood lightened a little. The students all rather enjoyed Dr. McCoy's classes, and Mystique—as the rest of them called her, since she didn't mind now (at least, she didn't let on)—was, well, Mystique.

"Thank you, Professor," Hank said with a small smile and nod of his head, before he turned back to address the students. "Now, I know some of you are still learning to harness and control your powers. But, this does not mean you are excused from obvious repercussions. This means no blatant exploding—" Jubilee looked away, "—teleporting—" Kurt fiddled with his jacket, "—zapping—" Ororo shifted in her seat, "—or mind-moving of personal objects, just for the fun of messing with the other students," Jean coughed just slightly.

Raven stepped forward, "This doesn't mean you aren't allowed to use your powers. Never forget, embrace who you are. Just don't, you know, screw around with them." A good number of the students chuckled at this.

Hank was included in the group that chuckled. "Exactly. And, whoever continues to put tacks on my seat just as class is starting, do remember, we have cameras," he warned, arching a brow.

Peter leaned over to Kurt, "Yeah, but are they fast enough to catch me?" He muttered smugly.

"You would be surprised at the speed of our cameras, Mr. Maximoff," the Professor said, looking knowingly at the pair who had been quietly conversing. The speedster in question shrugged it off as if it were nothing, and leaned back in his seat, propping his hands behind his head.

"Anyways," Raven continued, "Just know that even though we all have a different power, that doesn't mean we're going to treat you any differently if you knowingly misbehave. Accidents happen, but we've seen enough 'accidents' to know when someone's faking." Again, a few students chuckled at this.

"Thank you, students, and that is all," Hank said, and he turned around a moment. A "kick me" sign had been placed on his back while the speech had been going on, but he paid no notice yet. An eruption of laughs, though, alerted him that something was wrong. He turned around again, and the group went eerily silent. Frowning, he looked to Raven, who was holding in a chuckle, though she only shrugged.

"Go ahead," she said, gesturing to the door.

He turned around again, and the students burst into laughter. Jean and Ororo exchanged a sneaky high five, and grinned slyly as Hank attempted to see what was wrong. He growled a little, and finally, Raven gave in.

She tore the paper from his back, folding her arm over her chest as she rose a brow at him, "Jeez, Hank, looking for a fight, are we?" She said, to which the students laughed again.

Hank looked at the paper, then at the students, and gave a grunt of a sigh. After a few tense moments, he lightened up, and gave a chuckle of his own. "Mature, guys. Really mature," he said.

"It was Jean that did it!" Jubilee exclaimed, and Jean shoved her in the arm. "What?" She said defensively, "It was just a prank, anyways."

"Nice going, genius," Scott muttered, though he sent Jean a little smirk of approval.

Hank chuckled, "Well, this is perfect, isn't it? It seems Jean has volunteered herself to be an example for all of you."

The whole room was silent, and all eyes were trained on the redhead teen. She gulped, but besides an internal struggle, she seemed rather calm.

"Come on up here, Jean," he said with a gesture of his hand. "I know you were just itching to help."

She stood up slowly, and all eyes followed her as she stepped up to the front of the room.

"Now," Raven said, though she almost seemed amused by the whole situation, "You have ears, yes?"

She nodded, frowning slightly.

"And the Professor can attest to your magnificent brain."

Jean looked at Raven confusedly.

"So, when we said 'no random use of powers,' which part of your head wasn't working? Ears or the brain?"

Jean grimaced, and Hank patted her shoulder a moment. She was sent back to her seat, while the rest of the students laughed again. "But we're only joking, Jean," Hank assured her.

"Besides the part about no random use of powers—we'd rather not send you to the Professor," Raven warned almost jokingly. The Professor chuckled only faintly, shaking his head at the woman.

"So, we got that, students?" Hank said, clapping his hands together. He got a few nods, the normal reaction, and decided it was enough. "Good," he said.

"Alright, all of you, back to class," the Professor said with a wave of his hand, sending the students back off to whatever they'd been doing. He rolled up next to Hank, "Pity I couldn't make use of the sign," he said slyly, smirking only a bit as he looked up at his friend.


	6. Senses (Various)

**Senses**

 _Hearing_

The voices were returning.

A single, shaking hand came to Charles's head, pressing hard against the throbbing temple. Had it been that long since...?

"Hank," he breathed in a rasp, looking helplessly at the man. Even without his dreaded telepathy, he made himself clear in a single, pleading word.

His legs trembled beneath him, and he knew it wouldn't be long until he was too overdue. He would fall, and he would fail. His mind would fill, and he would hide, once again. Hide with concoctions of drugs to give him his legs at the cost of his powers; with closed doors and empty rooms reminding him of the days of the school's prime; with only the company of his closest friend.

A second drifted away, and things suddenly moved more slowly. His knees buckled, his brain exploded, and he was on the floor yet again. Helpless.

Thoughts from far off strangers flooded his mind, crowding his head and overwhelming his senses. Heavy tears fell against the hardwood floors, and his hands clutched his aching head.

Fragments of loss, grief, love, and fear clouded his own memories, shrouding his senses in a thick, foggy layer of his own overwhelming emotions.

He had failed them. He had failed them all.

And as he lay there, weak and helpless on the ground, all he could hear was the pain of all those around him. And there was so much pain.

None of it his own, but all of it his burden.

"You missed a dose," Hank said quietly, bringing him the syringe.

The voices were returning.

 _Sight_

Everything was dark.

The teen pressed his hands against his eye sockets, afraid that if they moved a millimeter, he would destroy something. A shuddering breath rattled his figure. His shoulders hunched over, body rocking forward and back on the bathroom seat.

Silence—and then a single, degrading comment.

"Are you crying?"

Well, yes; to be honest, he was. But it wasn't because he was saddened by anything. No, he was _terrified_. Fear pulsed through his veins as he clutched at his eyes, not wanting to even glance elsewhere. He didn't want to hurt anyone. He didn't want to be so destructive.

Hot tears puddled in his palms, the sheer force of the energy from his eyes leaving him breathless, dazed, and confused.

Not to mention afraid. _Very_ afraid. But that wasn't the worst part of it.

He had always prided himself on a good sense of sight, on being able to see things as they really were. But, no, it seemed no longer could he say that. He was practically blind. Left to search around for the rest of his life in fear of destroying anything, only for want of seeing the sky again.

Would he ever be able to see again? He couldn't be sure. But, right now...everything was dark.

...

Everything was red.

 _Touch_

"I only touched him!" She shrieked. Slowly, the teen curled in upon herself, tears streaming down her cheeks as she looked at the boy laying still on her bed.

One kiss, and she'd somehow sent him into what she knew had to be at least a coma. She looked down at her trembling hands, clenching her fists as she drew them towards her body, crossing them over her chest and tucking them against her arms. Her mouth opened slowly, moving soundlessly, unable to form words; only sharp breaths exited her form.

Waves of brown hair curtained across her vision, but she did nothing to brush them away. She was too afraid. What would happen if she touched even herself? A mere brush of the finger—could it...kill?

She didn't want to take that chance.

Her mother turned towards her, eyes wide. Fearful—no, something far softer. She was worried.

But so was Marie.

No, she was more than worried. Fear filled her—a crippling fear that said she could kill those she loved lost, merely by touching them. She couldn't let that happen. No, she wouldn't let that happen.

"Don't touch me!" She cried, almost into hysterics at this point, as she shrunk away from her mother's touch.

Her mother's touch.

Something she may never feel again. The thought terrified her. She clenched her jaw, breath shaking as her eyes fell again on the still form of the boy she thought she actually had a chance with.

Not now.

"I only touched him," she whispered, her voice breaking.


	7. You're Her (Apocalypse)

**You're Her**

Things rarely scared Mystique any more. Not self-proclaimed "big, strong men"; not the slinky, gaunt men that snuck through the streets at night and took advantage of the young, naive girls; not even the ones that really got under her skin—the idiots who didn't know what the hell they were doing. Actions didn't faze her, ideas didn't make her feel uneasy, and words didn't worry her.

Usually.

But just two words, somehow, took her so completely off-guard, that she nearly threw away her entire plan.

 _"You're her."_

What did he mean? Or, more importantly, what did he know?

The woman built up her walls again, straightening, unfazed by the unconscious body just behind her. She looked at the teen, and couldn't help but feel sympathetic for him. So lost, so scared, and so...blue.

Literally, blue.

But she couldn't let that change things.

And she didn't.

Apocalypse was defeated, and she led the team.

Jean Grey, the promising but fearful young telepath; Scott Summers, so much like his brother, but so different; Ororo Munroe, the weather temptress, the prodigal daughter; Peter Maximoff, the eldest of the new team, but the one with the most weight on his shoulders; and...Kurt Wagner. The teleporter.

The blue-skinned mutant with pointed ears and a pointed tail; the young teen with so much fear in his eyes, yet so much hope. So much anticipation.

A face flashed in her mind. A long scar down the cheek. Dark, wind-blown hair that fell to the shoulders. A black suit that set off the devilish appearance. Deep red skin, so akin to her own color, so different from that of a "normal" person.

But Azazel had not been normal. And neither had she.

She had been young, even naive, and so affected by Erik's rash actions. Now she knew he had not done it, but at the time, the wound had been deep. Painful. Easily cleansed of the guilt with the arms of another.

Mystique gave herself to Azazel—and what she was given in return was far more.

The red-skinned teleporter disappeared soon after, and it would not be for another ten years that she would discover his fate. His awful, gruesome fate.

And by that time? Gone. The tiny, blue baby boy born on the backstreets of a poor German town? Gone. Probably a young boy by then. If he had survived.

She never knew. Sometimes, at night, she would have haunted dreams of a young boy's corpse, paling from blue to grey as the color left his cheeks, eyes blank as he was found, dead and gone.

Gone.

Until that moment in the cage.

Until he said those two words.

Until he tore a hole in her heart.

"I'm blue," he had said upon arrival to the mansion. And unknowing as he was, it had struck Mystique in a way she couldn't explain.

Maybe it was the sheer naivety in his tone, or perhaps the unworldly eagerness he expressed, or it simply could have been that tiny drip of hope that still hung in her thoughts, showing the boy in a different light.

She had barely hidden a smile.

And now, there they were, all part of a team. A team born of destruction, but also of trust. Born of the oncoming apocalypse, and of its aftermath. Shiny and new, they stood, ready for training, in shiny new uniforms.

They weren't ready. It was obvious. They'd barely stood against each other, let alone against Apocalypse himself. They had to train to fight.

And yet, it wasn't the training she looked forward to each day. It was the seconds beforehand, when she looked from one student to another—from one X-Man to another—and could catch a glance of his determination. Of Kurt's determination. His excitement. His eagerness.

A simple twitch of the tail, a curl of the fingers, or a lick of his lips, and she knew he was anxious. And yet, she also knew he couldn't enjoy it more. The rush he seemed to get when he used his powers, for good instead of for entertainment, didn't need a telepath to be revealed.

She tried not to stare, honest she did, but every once in a while, he looked over, and she knew he'd noticed. It was then that she would again put up her walls, and once again judge the team as a whole; until he looked away, that was.

"Raven?" The hesitant voice spoke, a faint tap echoing on the wooden door.

She paused a moment, hand over a few papers she still had to grade—she was a teacher there now, too. A slow, steady breath left through her nose, and she turned around, giving the boy a soft, welcoming smile. "Kurt. Hi."

His smile was weak, showing a faint point of teeth, and he entered the room. "May...may I?" He asked, a three-fingered hand gesturing to the seat.

"Yeah—yes, of course," she said, also gesturing to the seat as she turned a bit more forward, adjusting her seating. "What do you need?"

"Well..." He started, his expression going south immediately. His hands fiddled, he bit his lip, and his eyes cast downward; all signs of nervousness.

"You can say whatever you want to say, no worries here," she said, her tone far softer than what she would usually use with the students at any time—Hank usually dealt with the emotional stuff. He was awkward, sure, but he handled it far better than she could.

His eyes flickered up towards hers again, though they didn't stay there long. Again, he seemed hesitant to speak, as his mouth moved soundlessly, trying to find the right words. Obviously, there weren't that many ways to say it, because he hadn't found it yet

"Kurt," she said again, surprised by the gentleness in her tone, and she leaned forward a few inches. "Whatever you need to say, you can say to me." Maybe it was her motherly side escaping, not able to be pushed back any more, but she wanted to know. She cared about the kid.

A few long seconds of silence, and then he inhaled slowly, finally finding the words. "Do you remember that night...the night you found me?" He asked, raising his eyes towards her again.

She nodded once, golden eyes penetrating his. Of course she did. That was the night that she finally knew for sure.

"I...I wanted to know if, well..." He was searching for the words again, still unable to put it correctly. "I—I never knew my parents."

Oh God. Her throat suddenly felt dry, and she swallowed thickly. What was he going to say? Had he somehow found out about her?

"And, well...seeing you on the news, and seeing you so...blue...I was...changed," he said, exhaling as he spoke. He seemed to be gaining confidence, little by little. "And I just wanted to know if..."

"We're your family here, Kurt," she said, cutting him off. She wasn't ready, and honestly, she wasn't sure if he really was, either. His hands tapped on the desk, and she reached out a hand, blue scales and all, placing it over his. "You don't have to be alone."

She would tell him, eventually.

He would tell her, eventually.


	8. Do You Trust Me? (Various)

**Do You Trust Me?**

The first time she asked, they were in Cairo.

Mutant was pitted against mutant. Destruction was everywhere. It was almost too much for the eye to take in.

But at this moment, Scott couldn't exactly take in anything without causing more destruction.

He felt her hands at the sides of his head, and a voice echoed in his head.

 _Do you trust me?_

Did he? He'd only known her a week, maybe even less than that, but there was no denying it: there was a connection between them. So did he trust her?

He would have to.

His eyes shot open, and a red blast of energy shot forward, led by the careful hands of the red-headed telepath Jean Grey. It was mere moments, but it felt like a decade. The battle did not end soon enough.

The next time she asked him, it was a year later. She'd taken his hand, leading him away from the library and out towards the twilight sky.

"Close your eyes," she'd said, but then equally dismissed, as it didn't do much help anyways. Sunglasses at night were blindfold enough.

His fingers entwined with hers, and he allowed her to lead him forward. Her steps slowed to a stop, so he followed suit.

"It's dark," he said, though that was pretty obvious. He could see a faint twinkle of a star here and there, perhaps a bit of a lighter red glow from the remnants of the setting sun, but it was mostly just...dark.

"No duh, genius," she said in response, though her tone was anything but rude. He could almost hear the smirk in her voice, the suspense growing as he awaited the answer to his original question upon her bringing him out here: _what are we doing?_

There was a pause, and only a few shouts from some of the younger students down in the basketball court broke the otherwise silent air.

"Do you trust me?"

The answer came far more easily this time. He nodded, words seeming unnecessary, and he felt her squeeze his hand gently.

There was another pause, and suddenly, the sky lit up. Pinks, purples, blues, and whites. There was no red tint, no shade from his glasses. He was left speechless for a moment, and his free hand went preemptively to his face, fingers brushing the frame of his glasses.

How?

Jean seemingly heard his unspoken question, and again the smile in her voice was almost too obvious to miss. "I thought you would appreciate getting to see the stars how they're supposed to be for a change," she said softly, her hand still in his.

But...how?

Again, he needed not ask out loud. "I'm projecting the image into your mind," she explained, pausing a moment, perhaps awaiting his protest of the statement. It didn't come. "I'll stop, if you don't want to—"

"No." He didn't mean to interrupt, but he didn't want her to stop. Not yet. His eyes moved from their position on the sky above, and yet the image did not change. Not yet. "Could I see...you?" He asked, hoping it didn't sound as strange as it felt coming out.

A small breath of a chuckle escaped through her nose, and again the picture changed. Now it moved and flowed, like he was actually seeing it. There she was.

And it hit him—this was the first time he had actually seen her, no red filter. And she was...beautiful. Red hair, red cheeks, but blue eyes he had never seen so clearly. And that smile. He'd seen it so many times, but tonight? That smile...

He took a step closer, his hand dropping from hers, but resting at her cheek. She seemed almost surprised at first, and her fingers moved from her temple a moment, but she did not step away. Her eyes flickered slightly downward, and his own glance fell to her lips, before his eyes again met hers.

It seemed like a million years that they stood there, but then it happened. She leaned in, rising just a little on her toes, and he leaned down ever so slightly. Their lips met, and it was their first kiss.

But, certainly not their last.

When she asked him again, it had been five years since the battle in Cairo. Just days earlier, they had visited Alex's grave, which lay carefully in the gardens, encircled by flowers of blue and gold. Now, they sat in the room that was once Scott's dorm as a student.

They weren't really students any more.

Jean was earning her doctorate in genetics, while Scott had become plenty good with cars. He'd also become the leader of the X-Men. With Jean by his side, as well as Ororo, Kurt, Peter, and multiple others, they kept the world safe from dangerous mutants, and then some.

But right now, it was just Jean at his side. Her hand settled on his leg, and he looked at her, gazing through ruby quartz lenses he so wished to remove. His expression was sober, as was hers, but a faint smile tugged at the corners of her lips.

She leaned in, and they fell together into a soft kiss, and she only pulled away to slowly line his jaw and neck with gentle kisses. A soft sigh came from her lips as she tilted her head slightly, and again their lips met.

He broke away a moment, and the question was at the tip of his tongue.

But she got to it first.

"Do you trust me?"

Of course he did. With a murmured yes, she began to unbutton his shirt, and he did not protest.

They woke up the next morning, covers messy, but expressions tiredly happy, the sunlight peering through his curtains as the two eventually woke up, but did not leave the bed.

Not yet.

And when again the question arose three years later, it was under different circumstances.

There she was, stunning in a green dress, while he stood there anxiously, his red tie slightly askew.

The night had gone well so far. Sure, the steak had been a little more cooked than medium, and the pasta had been a little cold, but Jean had assured him everything had been fine.

Now, there they were, the pond bubbling quietly nearby, as strings of lights illuminated the rippling water, red roses scattered all around.

It was now or never.

He knelt down on one knee, and produced a small box. Jean pretended to act surprised, but he knew she'd snuck a peek in his head while they were having dinner. He'd been practically screaming, by her standards.

"Do you trust me?" He'd whispered only seconds earlier, and now here he was. Oh God, he hoped he hadn't chosen wrongly.

Her lips pulled into a smile, and with a little flick of her hand, she pulled him back up by the tie, her lips meeting his in a tender kiss, and he knew she'd said yes.


End file.
